


his name

by orphan_account



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, I Made Myself Cry, M/M, Romance, Science Fiction, so watch out 4 d angst, this is very sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-09 21:00:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19483936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "Your name is Roger," is the first thing John says to him— a statement, not a question.





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Suicide

"Your name is Roger," is the first thing John says to him— a statement, not a question. Roger looks at him, looks into his green, warm eyes, and he already feels like he's known him for years. He knows he'll be comfortable around him. He nods and gives a smile.

"My name is Roger," he confirms. John smiles back at him but there's something sad in that smile and Roger immediately finds himself wishing he could do something to make John feel better. In the end, that's his job, isn't it? This is what he's here for.

"Welcome home, Roger," John says softly. At that moment, something tugs at Roger's heart. He doesn’t understand the feeling, all he knows is that he has to make John happy.

*******

His life with John is simple. During the day, Roger cooks and cleans around the apartment while John spends a lot of time in the laboratory, working on something Roger is not supposed to ask about. It's one of the first instructions he's given.

"Work is work, I don't want to discuss it," John informs him. "You're here to entertain me," he adds, tone joking. "Aren't you?"

“Of course." Roger grins. "I'm good at that."

And he is pretty good at it. In the evenings, they watch movies together, play games or just chat. Roger has a vast knowledge of many subjects and he considers himself a valuable conversation partner. John seems to think so as well— even if he sometimes spaces off and gets that sad look in his eyes as he stares at Roger's face like he's remembering something from a past long gone. Roger doesn't know how to react in these moments so he tries making jokes— it usually works, even though John only snorts at them, rarely actually laughing.

Roger can't help but wonder what happened to John that made him so sad. Whatever it is, he wishes he could help. In the end, this is now his sole purpose.

*******

It doesn’t take Roger long to find out the reason for John's sadness. The day he does, Roger decides to check an unused room in the apartment, to see if the cleaning bot has done its job. When he enters it, he's intrigued— he's never been in there before. It looks almost lived it as if someone who occupied it has left just a few hours ago. The shelves are lined up with books and fantasy and romance novels, there are a few History and Biology books as well. The clothes seem like what a man would wear. There's also a jewellery box on the desk. He sits down on the bed— it's comfortable, and the sheets smell fresh. There's a small husky plush toy on the pillow and Roger picks it up with a smile. It's really cute— he gets a warm, nostalgic feeling looking at it. Its eyes seem almost like a real dog's. It’s a little worn— you can tell it’s been well-loved.

It's a nice room, it feels cosy. He thinks he'd like living in here.

He examines the walls— they're painted light purple, and there's a landscape painting hanged on the wall opposite the bed. There are also a few posters of a rock music bands. His eyes shift back to the desk, and he finds himself drawn to the jewellery box. Curious, he picks it up.

There are some earrings and necklaces inside, but what really catches Roger's attention is a silver ring. It's just a simple band, but for some reason, he really likes it. He tries putting it on his ring finger— surprisingly, the size fits him well. He frowns, looking at it. Something at the back of his mind starts nagging at him like he's forgetting something, but the more he thinks about it the more it slips away.

And then, suddenly, the door creaks and John walks into the room. Roger looks up, surprised— it takes John a second to take the situation in, and then he strides over to Roger, his expression cold.

"Give it back," he says, voice devoid of any emotion. Roger quickly obeys, taking the ring off and handing it to John.

"I'm sorry— I just. I came here to look around, and..." he trails off. He's not sure what happened after that. What was he even doing?

John pays him no mind— he carefully puts the ring back into the box and places the box back on the table. Only after that, he looks at Roger again.

"I told you not to enter the room with the locked door."

"But— the door was open."

John stares at him for a moment, then he sighs— he looks frustrated. "Right. I forgot you probably need clear instructions."

Roger doesn't respond to that, unsure what to say. What he knows is that he doesn't like the displeased expression on John's face. He's supposed to make him happy— this is what he's here for. He searches his mind for something to say that could make things better.

"I'm sorry," he finally says again. "I'm really sorry."

John lets out another sigh— he doesn't seem angry anymore, just... Roger isn't sure how to categorize the emotion. Resigned?

"Why did you touch that ring?"

The question makes Roger feel even more confused. "I... don't know," he replies genuinely. "It just... was there."

For a moment, John searches his face, like he's hoping to find something— Roger doesn't know what. But then, he just shakes his head. "Never mind. Just don't do it again, understood?"

"Yes," Roger replies. He knows now— he's not allowed into the unoccupied room.

*******

it's only a few days later that he finds out that the person who lived in that room must have been very important to John. It happens in the evening. John spent the whole day working, didn't even come for dinner, and Roger was worried about him. He seemed restless. He barely touches his dinner, and Roger wonders if the food is that bad— it shouldn't be. Though he struggled with it at first, and John scolded him a few times, he can cook pretty well now and the dish is spaghetti, simple enough. He collects the almost full plate without comment, though, feeling John wouldn't appreciate being nagged at. In the end, it was his speciality.

Once they move to the living, room, John informs Roger he doesn't feel like watching movies. Thinking he's tired, Roger fully expects him to retread to his bedroom, but John stays there on the sofa. He looks a little lost, and he's wrapping his arms around himself like he's cold even in the warm sweater he's wearing. Roger considers turning the temperature in the room up, and maybe changing the hologram on the windows— it’ currently displaying a picture of snowy mountains— but then he realizes John's need for warmth might not be physical.

Talking to John is awkward today, he barely responds, so Roger hesitates for a moment before he asks, "Can I help you in any way?'

John glances at him, then quickly looks away, shaking his head. "I'm fine."

"You seem..." Roger pauses, searching for the right words. He always has trouble describing emotions for some reason. "Tense. And lonely." He shifts a little closer and tries a smile. "I could hug you?"

"I'm not..." John starts then falls silent. "I guess I am lonely. This is why you're here."

"And I'm here to make you feel better. This is my—"

"Stop saying that," John interrupts, irritation colouring his voice. "You sound like a goddamn whore house ad."

Roger pauses at that. He doesn't understand what John means, and he doesn't understand why he got upset, either, but he'll remember not to say that anymore. "I'm sorry. I could—"

"Just sit there and stay quiet," John interrupts. Then he adds, a little softer, almost apologetic, "Okay?"

It's a simple enough instruction, so Roger does as he's told. Still, he feels like he's not doing enough. John is obviously distressed and his job is to do something about it. But how can he help when John is not letting him help?

After a moment, on an impulse, he reaches and takes John's hand in his. It's warm, and holding it feels nice, almost familiar— their hands seem to fit together naturally as if they've been doing this for a long time. He ponders on it for a moment, as he intertwines their fingers. Then, he hears John inhale sharply— surprised, he raises his eyes— John is hiding his face in his hand, his body shaking with sobs. Roger has the urge to hold him, but he knows it's probably not a good idea. So he waits in silence.

After a moment, John starts talking. "Today is the day... when he died. A year ago."

Roger tenses at that. Something about it makes him feel uneasy. He knows of loss, in theory— he knows it hurts people. But he hasn't personally experienced it so he doesn't understand it— and yet, he feels unsettled. "He?" he asks quietly.

"My lover." Roger thinks of the room, and how it looked well taken care of. Even after a year. He thinks of the ring, too. Lover, of course, it all makes sense. "I... even now, it feels like yesterday. The pain. It wasn't supposed to happen. He died too soon for me to be able to..." He pauses— his hold on Roger's hand is strong, almost painful now, but Roger doesn't pull away. "I try to focus on work, to finish what we started together, but no matter how busy I am, every day, I remember that day. And today... I thought it couldn't be any worse, but..." He shakes his head. "I failed him."

Roger searches his mind for any fitting comforting words but he draws a blank. He doesn't know what happened exactly, he can't try to assure John it wasn't his fault, because what if it was? And John doesn't seem to want to be comforted, doesn't seem like he can get over his pain just yet. Roger can only squeeze his hand tighter and hope this will be enough.


	2. Part 2

  
Something between them changes after that day. Roger almost expects John to be awkward, he thought him the type that doesn’t like showing his distress. It seems he was mistaken about him because John doesn't seem embarrassed about what happened. In addition, he's somewhat more open around Roger, warmer and kinder. And Roger finds he likes it a lot, the sweet tone in John's voice, the tenderness in his eyes. He never thought he'd care but something inside him is changing every time John gives him that gentle smile. Roger finds himself thinking he's really cute, and at the same time, he feels like... he can't quite name it, like he's missing something, or wanting something, but he's not sure what it is.

Soon Roger finds out even more about John. He video calls John from the kitchen to tell him the dinner is ready, but John doesn't answer. After trying a few times, Roger decides to just to go to the lab.

The apartment is a two-story one— the upper story contains the bedrooms, living room, kitchen and bathroom, the lower story has John's office, the lab and a toilet. Roger rarely goes there— the cleaning bot handles most of the cleaning so he only checks if it's done its job well, though it's probably unnecessary because John is a bit of a clean freak and if something was off, he'd notice immediately.

Roger knocks on the door twice, but there's no response. He hesitates for a moment— John never really specified if it was okay for him to go into the lab— but eventually, he pushes on the door and enters the room.

The room is around the size of their living room and kitchen combined. Around the walls are shelves, tables, racks, all littered with a bewildering collection of apparatus, most of which Roger cannot name. But there are familiar test tubes, beakers, retorts, microscopes, some of which looked quite old-school. There are also various electrical machines and consoles, and a big hologram screen flickering in the air, currently empty— but what catches Roger's attention the most is a big glass tube in the middle of the room. It's filled with some sort of liquid and inside— there’s someone floating inside it, their body held up by tangled wires. Roger walks up to it, mesmerized, and once he gets close enough to take a good look at the person's features, he freezes in surprise. It's John.

His expression is relaxed, peaceful— he could be sleeping, but something tells Roger that's not it. He's not moving, he doesn't seem to be breathing. It's like he's dead.

Before Roger has time to panic, a small door on the left opens and John walks through it. Roger gapes at him, utterly baffled. Then who— or what— is this person in the tube?

"Roger?" John looks surprised to see him. "What are you doing here?" John walks towards him. He doesn't seem upset, but Roger still takes a step back, too confused to make sense of the situation. He's can't help but worry he might have gotten himself in trouble.

"I- I rang you, but you weren't answering, so I—"

"Oh." John gives him a sheepish smile. "I was in the backroom. One of the consoles broke so I was looking for replacement parts. Sorry." He frowns a little, studying Roger's face. "Why are you so tense?"

Roger almost snorts at that. How is he not supposed to be? "What's this?" He points to the tube. "It... he... looks like you?"

For a moment, surprise flashes in John's eyes, and it only makes Roger even more confused. What did John think, that Roger wouldn't notice it? That he wouldn't ask? But then his expression relaxes, and he smiles.

"It's a robot. The project I'm working on. See, human bodies are fragile, we get sick, we get old, we die. So these," he looks to the tube, "are supposed to replace our bodies. After a successful transfer of a person's personality, their memories, their experiences, a robot like this one can become their new host."

Roger is quiet for a moment, processing the information. "Does it have to look like you? It's kind of creepy."

"I suppose in the future it'll be possible to transfer your mind to a body that looks different, but for now, this is much easier. It helps to preserve your identity so that your consciousness doesn't reject the new host."

Roger tentatively touches the glass tube, looking at the robot floating inside. It's pretty. It looks nearly... perfect. Just like John himself, he thinks, and then blinks, surprised at his own thoughts. Does he really find John perfect? "So this... you're going to transfer yourself to this?"

"Once I'm sure it's safe, yes."

"Could you make one like me too?"

John stares at him for a moment, an unreadable expression his face, and then he laughs. "Yes. Yes, I could."

*******

  
Not long after that, Roger starts getting dreams. He sleeps on the sofa and even though it's not comfortable, until now he slept like a rock, usually waking up in the exact same position he fell asleep in. But now, the dreams are making him toss and turn, and he keeps waking up at night. Most of them are good dreams, but there's one that makes him sad— he can never remember it once he wakes up from it, though.

He does vaguely remember the good ones, but he doesn't understand a lot of them. All he knows for sure is that John is in many of them, and there's something warm and powerful filling Roger's chest every time he dreams of him. He dreams of his voice, his smile, his laughter— the John in his dreams laughs often, and his eyes light up with happiness when he looks at Roger.

Roger finds himself wishing it could be real.

He has no idea where the dreams came from, though. And the strangest thing is, he sometimes gets them during the day, too. They don't feel as real then, but they are more tangible than just thoughts and memories. He eventually figures it's maybe daydreaming. Until now, there wasn't anything he really wanted, so he didn't do it. But now he finds himself wishing that John would smile at him as he does in the dreams, speak to him with that fondness in his voice. And he sees it sometimes when he spaces out. Sometimes he wishes he could stay in those dreams.

But the reality is around him, and John here is not happy because of something that happened in the past. Because of some other person he loved— someone who wasn't Roger. Roger isn't jealous, not really, he just wishes he knew how to ease John's pain, how to make him feel better. In the end, it's what he's here for.


	3. Part 3

"Have we ever met before?" Roger asks one evening. He's watching TV, curled up on the sofa, but he can't focus on the holographic screen— his thoughts keep returning to the dreams he has about John. John is sitting next to him, but he's not really paying attention to the movie, either— he's reading something on his tablet, frowning as he scrolls through the text. At Roger's question, he raises his head in surprise. For a moment, he doesn't answer, just studying Roger's face.

"Why do you ask?" he says finally, brows furrowed. Roger chews on his lip. It'd be weird if he told John about his dreams, right? John might find it creepy. They might have been spending a lot of time together and Roger has all those feelings about John, but they don't know each other that well yet. John rarely tells him anything about himself. All Roger can do is observe and guess. And he's figured a lot of things out— that John loves good food, that he's very neat and hardworking, that he loves roses, that he gets startled easily, that he's a kind and caring person. But he still hasn't figured out how to get John to open up to him. Apart from that one evening when he told Roger about his late lover, he hasn't really talked to him about his past or his feelings.

"I just... I don't know." Roger shrugs. "I sometimes get a feeling… I feel like we might have known each other before."

"A feeling?" John repeats. "Where does it come from?"

Roger suddenly feels confused. "I- I don't know. Just." He looks into John's eyes. "Did we know each other before?"

Once again, John doesn't reply immediately, choosing instead to examine Roger's face. "Before what?" he asks at least, frowning. And, all of a sudden, Roger is rendered speechless. Before what?

He doesn't know. What was before he started working for John? He doesn't remember. Why has he never thought about it before? Just where did he come from? Who is he?

He suddenly feels scared. What's wrong with him, what's wrong with his memory? Why is he here?

To make John happy, he recalls. For some reason, that completely calms him down. It doesn't matter where he came from. He has a purpose to fulfil now.

"I... I don't know," he replies.

John sighs, looking almost as if he was expecting that answer, and he turns back to his tablet. "Don't bother me right now, okay?" he says softly. "I'm a little busy."

Roger is left feeling confused and uneasy like he's missing something important, but he doesn't know what it is or where to find it.

********

  
Even though he tries not to think about them, the dreams just don't leave him alone. It's not that he hates them, but he wishes he knew where they came from and what they meant. His attempt at asking John about it didn't go well, and for some reason, Roger felt like John wouldn't take him seriously, wouldn't want to answer his questions.

And then, there's also the other thing, the one he keeps pushing down, but it's constantly there, at the back of his head. He prefers to think about the dreams than that other thing. The other thing, it makes him feel anxious, makes him believe there might be something wrong with him. After all, he doesn't even know who he is— and he didn't even notice before that conversation with John.

His thoughts keep returning to that room. Something keeps pulling him to it, and he often finds himself stopping in front of the white door, staring at it as if it could answer all the questions that keep bothering him. He feels like the room is somehow connected to his past and to his dreams.

But John told him not to go in there, and Roger's main purpose is to make John happy. Until now, the thought of disobeying John's instructions never crossed his mind. It seemed like the possibility didn't even exist to him. But once he started considering it, he only feels more and more tempted with time.

Eventually, he ends up going into the room again.

It's strange how calm and at ease he feels in there, even though he's not supposed to be there. Maybe it's the interior of the room— it's the warmest, cosiest place in the whole apartment. The hologram on the window shows a view of a beautiful, sunny meadow in spring, and the gentle sounds of the forest are very soothing. Roger feels like he can almost smell the scent of flowers, fresh grass and wood. He suddenly wonders what season it is— it's been a long time since he saw the city through the apartment's windows.

He pauses at that thought. City? Is there really a city outside?

Prompted by the sudden curiosity, he approaches the windows to switch the hologram off, but then, something else catches his attention. There's a tablet on the desk, still switched on, as if recently used. Maybe John was using it? It wasn't John's tablet, though. Roger gently touches its flat, see-through surface and the screen lights up.

Roger freezes, staring at it. The background photo is of him and John. It's a photo they definitely never took— it seems like they were on vacation, on a mountain trip. They're crouching on the ground and Roger has his arms wrapped around John's neck; their cheeks are pressed together and they're both grinning. They look so happy.

But how? Roger doesn't remember taking that photo, doesn't remember going on a mountain trip with John— he doesn't remember ever leaving the apartment.

Then something else catches his attention. The earrings he's wearing on the picture, he saw ones just like this in the jewellery box in the room. Suddenly, a thought occurs to him and he zooms in on his left hand. Sure enough, it's there on his ring finger— that ring.

He stares at it in shock, trying to understand. How can it be? Why doesn't he remember? Is it really him on the picture? And if so, does this room belong to him? Is he John's lover?

It doesn't make any sense. If he is, and he lost his memories, why is John not trying to make him remember? Why did he not tell him anything? He even told Roger to stay out of this room, as if he wanted to keep him in the dark. But why?

And why did he say that his lover had died?

He decides there's only one way he can find out— he needs to talk to John about it.


	4. Part 4

  
At first, Roger intends to ask immediately, but during dinner he instead finds himself listening to John talk. He tells Roger he's been considering to adopt a pet, and then discusses the advantages of having a dog or a cat. He sounds really excited about it, like a little kid, and it makes Roger happy to see him like this. He desperately wants him to be happy.

Suddenly he realizes that his feelings for John have always been there, from the first time he remembers seeing him, but he doesn't know where they came from, and he wasn't fully aware of them first, didn't understand them at first. He understands better now. He loves John deeply, unconditionally. He can now name many reasons to love him, but why did he love him from the start, before he even got to know him?

It's weird, now that he thinks, the way he's acted before. All his feelings were strangely shallow, except for that love. But now, he feels many other things— like a feeling of accomplishment when he manages to make a dish John likes, happiness when he's able to make him smile with his jokes. And also loneliness, sadness, because, even though John is so close to him, it seems like they're still both so alone.

It might be weird, but Roger misses John from his dreams— the one who made him feel so safe and loved.

He finally asks about it after dinner, when he’s putting the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. John is sorting the contents of a small basket on the table, filled with pens, clips, pieces of paper and other random things. Roger had gone through it just a few days ago so it's probably unnecessary, but it seems to calm John.

"Deaky," Roger starts, then pauses, surprising himself. He's never called John that before but now it had just slipped from his lips. He glances at John— he doesn't seem to find it strange, or maybe he just didn't notice, too preoccupied with the task at hand. "I know you told me not to, but I went back into that room."

That catches John’s attention. Roger can feel him look at him, but he doesn't turn around, instead choosing to place another plate in the dishwasher.

"There was a tablet on the desk. The background photo was of me and you." He pauses, blankly staring at the dishes stacked in the rack. "Where... where did it come from? I don't remember even taking that picture."

There's a moment of silence and Roger can feel his heart thump in his chest.

"You really don't know, do you?" John asks finally. Roger turns to look at him, confused. John is smiling, but it's not a happy smile. He looks like he's about to cry. "You're— you're not human. You're not real."

"W-what?" What is John saying? He has a human body, he has thoughts and feelings, he's alive. How is he not real? Is that supposed to be a joke?

"You're a robot. Remember the one you saw in the lab? This is what you are." John looks away, fixing his eyes on the table. He looks tired, resigned. Roger's head is blank. What John is saying is impossible— his body is made of flesh and bones, there's no way... "You were supposed to be a new body for my... my lover. But long before we were ready, he got sick, really sick. He was dying, and there was nothing I could do to save him. So as a last resort, I tried to transfer his consciousness onto you, but I failed. You got some of his personality traits and some of his memories, but you're not him."

John falls silent after that. Roger just stands there, gaping at him, too shaken up to say anything or even move. What does all of that mean? Is he not a real person at all just... a shade of one?

"But I- I have feelings, and I-"

"Your design was based on a companion bot, a robot made to keep people company. You do have feelings, and a personality, but it's all programmed. You aren't fully conscious, this is why you never question your owner's orders, you never question your existence, where you came from and what your purpose is. You just... exist." John sighs. "That said, your feelings may feel real to you to some extent. Scientists can never be sure how advanced artificial intelligence is. But you're not human, and you never will be."

"But... but I..." Roger tries to protest— how can John know, how can he just tell him his feelings aren't real? But his voice breaks, and he's shaking, and he can't put his thoughts together. He's scared, so scared. He can't be— just a robot.

Because if he is one then John will never love him, right?

"Roger" John walks up to him and takes his hands in his. There's pity in his eyes, mixed with something else, something Roger can't identify. "Calm down," he says gently. "You're fine just the way you are. I won’t deactivate you or anything like that. You’re safe here."

He does calm down almost instantly. He takes a deep breath and looks up to meet John's eyes to argue— but then he realizes, John might be right. Roger didn't question his existence. He never questioned the instructions John gave him. Even now John was able to calm him with just a few words.

Maybe... maybe he isn't a real person, after all.

"Are you sure?” he asks instead because there are the memories and the dreams, and his feelings for John— "About your lover. That he can't be brought back?"

John lets go of his hands and takes a step back.

"Believe me, I've tried. At first, I really hoped for it." There's a pain in John's voice, but at the same time, he sounds calm, like someone who's given up a long time ago. "You'd remember some things, ask me about it, just like now. But then, with time, all of the memories disappear, and in the end, you are never more than just— this."

Roger frowns, confused. He doesn't recall asking John about anything before.

"I've reset you many times," John continues, clearing his doubts. "But I've given up by now. You can just stay the way you are. I guess… keeping you around does make me feel a little less... miserable. It's like... like watching an old video or looking at photos, I guess." John seems to be talking more to himself than to him right now and Roger suddenly wonders if it's always been like that. If he was just like a plant or a fish tank, something you could talk to without expecting much of a response. The notion makes his insides twist unpleasantly. He's always liked talking to John.

He wonders if the pain he feels now is artificial as well.

But more than anything, it upsets him that he somehow disappointed John— even if it was something he couldn't help. And he's worried that the way he is now, he won't be able to make John happy.

Why is that so important to him? The need to make him happy has always been inside him, from the very beginning. And it seems like it's more important to him than his own existence, his identity, his past and future. Why? Is it because he's just a robot, created to serve humans?

It doesn't matter, he decides. Even if it hurts, he'll still try his best for John. In the end, this is what he's here for.


	5. Part 5

  
_Roger is lying in his bed, curled up on his side, staring at the phone screen. Despite his best efforts to stay awake, his eyes keep closing. He stubbornly opens them every time, though, wishing he could make the numbers on the clock change faster._

_Just as they switch to 12:31, the door to the bedroom creaks open and a stream of light from the hall falls into the room. Roger doesn't move but he smiles, closing his eyes as he listens to the light footsteps of his lover. John._

_"Rog?" John leans over him, gently touching his hair. Roger hums in response, not opening his eyes. "Did I wake you?"_

_He replies with another intelligible hum. He hears John laugh softly and then his fiancé leaves the room, probably to wash and change. Roger feels calmer just knowing he's home; he could fall asleep now but he stays awake, listening to the sound of John's evening routine, by now just as familiar to him as it is to John. John always does things in the same order, as opposed to Roger, who, as John puts it, loves to incorporate chaos into every aspect of his life. Roger usually argues that chaos is the natural state of things and putting them in order requires much more effort, to which John reminds him that he wastes a lot of time because he forgets something or doesn't do it properly._

_Sometimes it's a little tiring, being with someone who's almost always right. But Roger loves John too much to get upset about it._

_For a moment the apartment is quiet and Roger worries John might have gone to sleep in his own room— they started off as roommates, to make it easier for them to work on their science projects, but ever since they got together, they usually sleep in the same bed, unless their schedules require them to wake up at completely different hours. Roger has a presentation at work tomorrow and he knows he should be asleep already, but he just really wants to feel John close to him. It's not that he's scared to sleep alone or that it makes him feel lonely, but he has gotten so used to sleeping with John that it’s weird when he's not around. It's like he misses him, even if he's just in the other room._

_But then he hears John enter the room again, and then he feels the bed beside him dip. John smells like his strawberries and Roger has the urge to hug him immediately, so, without a second thought, he turns over and wraps both his arms and legs around his lover. He more feels than hears John laugh as he buries his face in his neck._

_"I thought you were asleep," John whispers. Roger makes a small sound, snuggling even closer. John is warm, he likes it. "God, you're like an extremely clingy monkey."_

_That wakes Roger up. Of all things, a monkey? "I'm not a monkey," he protests. "They're ugly. I'm pretty."_

_"Sure. A pretty monkey."_

_Roger huffs a laugh at that. "I'm a strong and pretty man, okay." He knows he's making an idiot out of himself, but it's okay because he gets to hear John giggle in amusement._

_"A strong, pretty monkey." John pauses, shifting a little and wrapping his arms around Roger as well. "Does that make you a gorilla?"_

_Roger fakes a gasp. "I can't believe this. Are you into gorillas?"_

_John hums like he's considering. "No," he says then, voice filled with affection. "I'm into cute dorky people with pretty smiles." That's typical of John— he's too soft to tease for too long, at least when Roger is involved. Roger loves that about him, though. Joking around is natural for him, but deep inside he really likes sweet compliments._

_"So I'm cute?" Roger asks quietly._

_"Who said it was about you?" John retorts. Roger doesn't buy it at all, especially since the next thing John does is press a kiss to his hair. "Shouldn't you be asleep? You have to wake up early tomorrow."_

_"I know," Roger mumbles. "...Pet my hair?"_

_John snorts. "You're such a kid, you know." It's said with obvious fondness, though, and Roger feels John's fingers thread through his hair, petting him gently. He sighs contently, nuzzling his face into the crook of John's neck. Nothing in the world can feel better than this._

_"Promise you'll stay?" He knows he's really being a whiny kid at this point but in truth, he's been nervous about the presentation and he doesn't want to be alone. Sometimes John changes beds in the middle of the night because of Roger's bad sleeping habit— he moves around so much that someone who's a pretty light sleeper like John has a hard time sleeping with him._

_"As long as you don't kick me off the bed," John says, half-amused half fond. Roger smiles, reassured, and lets the drowsiness take over, lulled to sleep by John's calm breath and the soothing sensation of his fingers combing through his hair._

*******

He wakes up suddenly as if something startled him awake. His face is pressed against a hard, scratchy surface— he raises his head and he realizes it's the carpet. He's in the living room. He was sleeping on the sofa, and he must have fallen off it.

Strange. Before he had no trouble sleeping on it without moving even an inch. As he sits up, still drowsy and confused, he remembers the dream. It was so real and vivid, just like most of the dreams he's been having recently. He can almost still feel it. The warmth, the feeling of security, the love.

Except he's cold and alone, sitting here in the darkness. He thinks about getting up and going back to sleep, but then something makes his throat tighten his chest clench. He misses it. He's not sure if it was real, he's not sure if it was really him, but he misses being so close with John so much it hurts, it really hurts. He wishes he could just go into his room, crawl into his bed and hug him, like in those dreams, but he knows John wouldn't accept him, because he's not— he's not really that person who John was in love with, just some robot who happens to relive some of that person's memories.

He's not a real human being.

He's surprised when he feels warm wetness on his cheeks, and he touches them, confused— tears. He's never cried before, but now that he's started, he just can't stop. Instead of going back to sleep, he ends up sitting there on the floor crying, all alone.


	6. Part 6

>   
>  "How am I different from, from him?" Roger asks the next day during breakfast. It took him a lot to gather his courage to inquire about it but it kept bothering him, and he knows he won’t rest until he finds out. "I mean, what kind of a person was he?"

John doesn't answer immediately, chewing on his food, his eyes fixed on the mini tv screen hanged above the table, which is now broadcasting rock music videos. For a moment Roger is worried that John is angry at him for asking, and he won’t answer at all, but then John sighs and puts his chopsticks down.

"He was a strong-willed person, one of the kindest people I've met," he says slowly. "He was also bright and positive. He was... sunshine, he could lift anyone's spirits. He was..." John pauses and smiles fondly— it takes Roger's breath away because he remembers that smile from his dreams. "Messy," he chuckles. "He always made a mess. I scolded him for that a lot. He also couldn't cook well and he seriously didn't like cooking. If I tried to make him cook as often as you do, he'd be so frustrated. I usually cooked for us." John falls silent, an absent look on his face. Roger tries to process the information, but he doesn't know what to make of it. Is the way he smiles not good enough? Or is he not good enough because he can cook well? That's so unfair, he thinks. It's not like he was good at it from the start— he tried and tried because he wanted to make John happy. Because this is what he's here for.

"He was very smart and open-minded, and curious about everything," John continues. "He was also childish sometimes. Too hasty. Too clingy. He was witty, he could make anyone laugh. And he..." John's voice breaks suddenly and he buries his face in his hands. Roger freezes, staring at him, eyes wide. He didn't mean to make John sad. He regrets asking about it in the first place— it only confirmed that he's not that person John loved, even if he has his memories and his feelings.

But it's okay, he thinks, tentatively reaching out to place his hand on John's arm. To his relief, John doesn't flinch away. Roger wishes he could hold him instead, but he knows he'd be pushing his luck if he tried.

It's okay. He can't be that person John misses so much but he still can do his best to cheer him up, and maybe, with time, John will begin to appreciate him for who he is.

********

  
He keeps falling off the couch. It's getting tiring. He wonders if it's because of the dreams— they haunt him every night now, and more and more memories float into his head during the day as well. It's not just about John these days. He remembers other people and many different places. At first, they're all unfamiliar to him but the more he remembers, the more they feel like people he really knew. His friends, his family... even his dog.

He wonders what happened to them. Where are they now? He wishes he could see them. He'd ask John about it but he's a little afraid at the same time. And if John was right and all of these memories would eventually disappear— then what's the point? He doesn't want to give anyone false hope. In the end, he's not really the person they knew.

It doesn't change the fact that he misses all of them.

Some things change for the better, though. He's more successful when it comes to making John smile or even laugh these days. Maybe it's just his wishful thinking, but he feels like they're getting closer. He can now comfortably rest his head on John's shoulder when they watch movies in the evening, and he doesn't get pushed away. It’s just a tiny bit of closeness but it matters a lot to Roger, who's pretty much starved for it now. Just feeling the warmth of John's body and his scent close to him makes him happy. He dares to hope that their relationship will keep changing for the better— until one day all of that hope is taken away from him.

John is tense that day, anxious before some job-related meeting he has to attend tomorrow. Roger doesn't think much of it— John has had a few meetings like that, and he's always nervous, but he always comes back in a much better mood, and even though he doesn't talk about it, Roger is sure he does well. So his attempts to cheer John up are lighthearted— during breakfast, he tries to distract him, he jokes around a bit, makes a few snarky comments about a TV show they've watched, and shows John pictures of cat breeds he finds especially cute. John's mum is supposed to pick a cat next month and bring it over. Roger supposes he won't be allowed to meet her but even so, he's excited. Apart from John, he hasn't ever seen another human being, and he has never had any contact with animals, either. He can't wait to play with the kitten.

He's thought about it before, asking John if he can go out. He switched off the window holograms in the living room a few times and instead of sleeping, he watched the city outside. You couldn't see the sun or the sky due to constant rainy weather and the pollution but it was still so bright and lively, filled with lights, colourful ads, flying automobiles. And Roger knows a few things about it from his memories— the Japanese food place he and John often visited, the park where he liked to play with friends when he was younger, the nearby shopping centre where he bought a lot of his clothes. He wishes he could see those places again. But he knows he is just... a project, he hasn't been fully tested, and John would probably be afraid to let him out with no supervision, especially since companion bots weren't allowed to go out without their owners unless they were certified bots designed to help disabled people. Still, if nobody notices he's not human, it shouldn't be a problem, right?

Yet, he hesitates to ask— he figures maybe he could go for something simple, like going shopping together. John lets him buy whatever he wants online, but it'd be nice to just spend time with John, and see the world outside.

John is still in a bad mood in the evening but Roger cooks his favourite food, spaghetti.

"It's really good," John says after eating some of it. It makes Roger beam at him happily. John stares at him then, as if surprised.

"What?" Roger asks, raising his eyebrows, but John just shakes his head with a smile and goes back to the foos.

"By the way, do you like my hair?" he asks. He's decided to dye it light green yesterday, something he felt like doing for a while. John hadn't commented on it yet, so it made Roger wonder if he didn't like it. "How is it?" he adds in a soft voice, leaning in. He’s still trying to brighten John's mood, and it seemed like the natural thing to do.

John looks up at him, eyes wide. Roger smiles brightly, waiting for some sort of a comment, but instead, John drops his fork and leans back in his chair, a frown on his face.

"Stop doing that," he says quietly.

"Doing what?" Roger asks, confused.

"Acting like him." John's voice quivers. "Is that why you asked me what he was like? I don't know if you think this is going to make me feel better, but it's not. I've given up. I'm tired of getting my hopes up and then getting disappointed all over again."

"But I... I'm not..." Roger swallows thickly— he's surprised and hurt. He wasn't trying to act like anyone. He wasn't even thinking about what he was doing, it just happened naturally. It was all him. "I'm not trying to act like anyone—"

"Stop it!" John raises his voice. He gets up and takes a step towards Roger, and he looks so angry Roger is actually scared. But then he seems to get a hold of himself and he freezes. He just stands there, looking at Roger— he's shaking, Roger notices. "I can't handle this anymore, alright? I've told you, you're fine just the way you are."

"But..." Roger tries again, even though he has a feeling it's hopeless, and he already can feel his eyes prickle with tears. "I'm really— what, what if I've really remembered this time and I'm—"

"Don't," John interrupts him softly. He shakes his head, a bitter smile stretching his lips. "God, I probably shouldn't have activated you again. I definitely shouldn't have given you his name. It's not right." He exhales shakily. "But never mind. What's done is done." He gives Roger a stern look. "Just don't do it again."

And with that, he leaves the kitchen. Roger looks at the barely touched pasta on John's plate and tries his best not to cry, he isn't going to cry. He's already told himself that he's okay with being treated that way. He won't expect much. It's fine if John never sees him as a person. All he needs to do is to try his best to make John happy, right?

But what if he can't do it after all?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lolol roger with the green hair, i know he hated it but i had to 😔✋🏻


	7. Part 7

  
After that, John never calls him by his name again. He doesn't give him a new one, either— he barely speaks to him at all. He still responds to Roger's questions but he doesn't let himself be pulled into any deeper conversation. He's never mean, he's not even really cold, but it's obvious he's distancing himself from Roger. He barely even looks at him anymore. It seems like the only thing he needs Roger for is cooking, grocery shopping and making sure the cleaning bot does its job well.

"We're not much different, I guess, are we?" Roger asks the cleaning bot as it swooshes by the sofa, vacuuming the carpet for the last time before the night. It doesn't react— in the end, it's just a metal box that only responds to simple commands.

Similar to how John sees him, he supposes.

He knows John is acting like this because he's suffering because he's afraid to let himself believe that this time might be different, that Roger really might be... that person he misses so much. Even Roger doesn't know that for sure. For all he knows, he might forget everything tomorrow. These days he almost wishes he could, so all this pain would go away.

He realizes he's bitter, but how can he not be? He feels so lonely. He wraps his arms around his knees, trying to create some illusion of warmth. But the room is still cold and empty, and he is still alone. It's not where he belongs. He should be by John’s side, he should be making him happy. But he can't do it anymore, can he? John can't even stand to look at him anymore. All Roger gives him is pain.

Eventually, Roger gives up on the sad thoughts— he curls up on the sofa and tries to fall asleep, tries not to think about how much he misses John, tries not to cry himself to sleep again.

He dreams again that night. This dream is a little different— it's unfocused, hazy, much like his dreams about his childhood and his hometown. But it's not a memory from a distant past— it must be fairly recent because he can see John, sitting on the side of the bed Roger is lying in. He's holding Roger's hand in his but Roger can barely feel the touch.

J _ohn is crying— it hurts Roger to see him like this. He doesn't want him sad, he wants him to smile, even when he's not there anymore. He wants to make a sassy comment, something that would make John laugh, but he feels weak and his mind is blurry and he's barely able to move his lips._

_"Don't cry," he says softly. John just lifts Roger's hand and presses it to his cheek. Even with his numbed senses, Roger can feel how wet it is. So many tears. But John's eyes should be crinkling in laughter, always. Roger could never stand seeing him cry._

_He wants to tell John to smile, he wants to tell him to be happy for them both, he wants to tell him to find himself someone who would make him laugh like Roger did— even if it might be impossible, because Roger is after all unique and probably the wittiest person on earth, but well, someone almost as funny as him will do. Someone who will take John's mind off all the little things he tends to worry about, someone who will make sure he doesn't overwork himself, someone who will look after him well. Maybe someone better than him in some aspects— someone a little less messy, someone a little better at cooking, someone a little less reckless._

_Someone who won't get deathly sick out of the blue, who won't leave John all alone._

_I want you to be happy, he thinks desperately, as his consciousness slowly slips from him. I love you, I wish I could make you happy, I should be there for you, I love you, I'm sorry._

When he wakes up, he's crying, hot tears streaming down his face, sinking into the pillow. He sniffs and wipes his eyes, and tries to even out his breath— every inhale is difficult with the choking pain he feels inside. He knows now, why he always felt that he had to make John happy. Why he loved him from the start, even though he could remember nothing else.

But he's failed— both John and the person who loved him. He can’t make John happy. He's just a reminder of someone he loved and lost. He knows John won't break his promise and deactivate him, but he also knows John doesn't want him around anymore.

He knows what he has to do.


	8. Part 8

  
It's not easy to figure out how to do it but eventually, he finds everything he needs to know in John's lab when John is away for work. His body is a lot like a human's, but all the cells are artificial, powered by a core, and if he switches off the core, within a few hours the whole system will turn down. Even if John activates him again... it won't be him anymore, right? He has no memories from the times John activated him before. Whatever he is, whatever his consciousness is, it will be all gone. He won't be able to cause John pain anymore.

At first, his plan is to just sleep through the whole thing. But, obviously, he has trouble falling asleep, and as he lies there, counting the time, he suddenly becomes afraid. He doesn't want to just— fade away here all alone in this dark cold room. At least for tonight, he doesn't want to be alone.

His body feels heavy as he drags himself off the sofa and steps towards John's room. He was afraid to do this all this time, afraid to ask, afraid to make John uncomfortable, but he figures that this one time he can be a little selfish. He just wants to feel warm at least once in his life. And even if John refuses, it won't really matter— he has nothing to lose at this point.

The light in John's room is still on when he pokes his head through the door. His vision is a little fuzzy but he can make out John's features when he looks up at him questioningly. He's already lying in bed and it seems he's been reading something on his tablet. The bed is big, it looks comfortable and inviting. Roger just wants to bury himself under the covers and snuggle up to John, drown in his scent and his warmth, like he used to back when— when he was still human.

"Can I... sleep here?" he mumbles, clutching on the doorway to keep himself upright. He doesn't want John to know that something is off. "I feel lonely there. I can't sleep. And I keep falling off the sofa." He realizes he's babbling so he shuts up— his brain to mouth filter seems to be working worse than usual now.

"Falling off?" John repeats, staring at him as if surprised. Then he nods and shifts a little on the bed, making space for Roger. Roger didn't really expect him to agree, so it takes him a moment to process what just happened. "Sure, why not? Come here," John says, finally making him snap out of his daze.

He feels so weak he's afraid he might trip, but he manages to make it to the bed without any accidents. He immediately curls up under the covers. It feels so warm. He's still hesitant to move closer to John, though.

"Are you okay?" John asks. Roger is surprised to hear the concern in his voice— but maybe he's just worried for his precious project. He feels a little guilty for making such a decision without letting John know. But even if John made him, his life is still his, right? Artificial or not, it's still his.

"Fine," he mumbles, his eyes falling shut. "Just... tired. Haven't had a proper sleep in weeks. The dreams..."

He feels John shift on the bed, moving closer to him. "What dreams?"

"Many... different dreams..." Talking is becoming more and more difficult, Roger notes. His mind still works pretty clearly, but his mouth doesn't want to cooperate. "A lot of them... about you. I miss it. When you hugged me and..." he trails off. He's so exhausted.

"You're crying," John says; he sounds almost... alarmed? Roger didn't even notice he was crying, but he can feel it now. He sniffs. He can't stop it, even if he tried. "Shit, I screwed up, didn't I? I'm sorry." And then, to his surprise, John pulls him into a hug. "I'm sorry," he says again, voice quivering. Roger isn't sure what he's sorry for, but this feels so nice. It's what he's wanted all this time. He buries himself deeper into the embrace. He's happy, just like this. He doesn't need anything else. Well, except maybe, for one thing, one that always helped him fall asleep when things were bad.

"Can you... pet my hair?"

“Of course.” John's voice is sweet, Roger hasn't heard him talk to him that way in a long time. It makes him so happy. He sighs softly, the sensation of John's fingers carding through his hair, gently massaging his scalp, helps him relax. He's missed it so, so much, and now his heart feels like it's about to burst. He wants to talk to John for a bit, some playful banter that would make him laugh would be nice. But he's too tired. He can barely keep his eyes open.

"Deaky?" Once again the name slips past his lips without thinking but this time he doesn't even realize. Isn't that what he's always called John?

"Hm?"

There's one more thing Roger has missed, so so much. Ever since that day John got angry with him...

"Can you say my name?" It's silly but it's important to him. Not only because he likes its sound on John's lips, but... hearing it made him feel more real, more human. Even since John stopped using it, Roger has felt like... like he wasn't even there.

Roger embraces him tighter. "Roger," he says, his voice shaking a little.

Roger smiles— this is enough, he’s happy now. "Roger," he confirms, voice barely a whisper— and then he closes his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry :(


End file.
